


home is where the heart is

by luckhasnotrunout



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Emotionally constipated Kakashi, F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn, Uchiha Obito Lives, anbu uchiha obito, i apologize in advance for my wack ass writing style, team ro is just that messed up team, will add tags as this updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 05:26:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17318822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckhasnotrunout/pseuds/luckhasnotrunout
Summary: a fix it fic of sorts. an everybody lives au where the kakashi-obito eye transplant happened but backup arrived so nobody died yay.kakashi and obito are anbu.their relationship from an outsider's view fic somewhat.





	home is where the heart is

The trees in Konoha were nice. They were strong, the bark seeming brittle but proved otherwise when hit, the leaves large enough to blot out the sun but not large enough to hurt. Also, they were the perfect trees to test sword strength on.  
Kinzoku had been standing by the border, and she’d gotten a little bored in debating if she would try to enter and see if Konoha wanted her. Her other plan was to see if the ocean wanted her body if she jumped off a cliff. Kirigakure probably didn’t even register her as a missing-nin, probably didn’t even see her leave. Didn’t care, most likely.  
Kinzoku took a deep breath, adjusting her grip on the katana, and swung it at the tree. A clean slice, until it stopped about two-thirds through the trunk. Kinzoku sighed, pulling the katana out of the tree. Shuffling through her bag, she took out a wood block and a file. Resting the blade on the wood block, she began sharpening it.  
Making and using swords had been… therapeutic, in a way. Perhaps it had been because of her Kekkei Genkai, but folding and shaping steel and sharpening swords let her get lost in her own world, run away from her teammates and the village in general. Run away from the hate and rumors they’d thrown at her. She’d be proud to say that she didn’t let them affect her but underneath her ignorance, the words had seeped into her and controlled her every thought, every dream, every waking moment she spent in Kiri’s vicinity. Running to the oceanside with nothing but her blades and practicing and practicing until the sun went down and her body was covered in sweat, she would want nothing more but to collapse on the sand and sleep, and sometimes, when the words were too strong for her, to be taken away by the waves.  
When she graduated from the Academy and she’d killed half her class in cold blood to for the test, the hate was joined by fear and she didn’t know which was better.  
Now, she was seventeen and a jounin and had finally gathered up the courage to leave. She’d left Kiri in the early morning, on a day when she had nothing scheduled with her team neither any missions assigned, with a pack filled with extra clothing, food, water, materials to start a fire, a sleeping bag equipped with the ability to strap to a thick tree branch, and her sword bag. She just got up and walked away, away from the village she had called home for her whole life, and went to the nearest port that imported and exported goods from the mainland. She hopped on a ship heading for the Land of Fire, gotten food, shelter, and water in exchange for manual labor. The boat arrived in two and a half days, and she’d taken a day to walk to Konoha.  
The heavy footsteps of something in the forest snapped Kinzoku out of her thoughts. She carefully set down the sword and the sharpening tools. She pushed her palm against the ground, watching for the creature carelessly sauntering around. She quickly spotted them - a Konoha shinobi heading straight for her.  
Thick ropes of metal surged from the ground, wrapping themselves around the shinobi, deliberately immobilizing his arms, legs, and waist, one rope twining itself around his mouth. She turned, looking for other shinobi, and behind her, were two ANBU lunging at her, one with a kunai and one with a short blade. She spun around, the metal ropes flinging the screeching shinobi at them. They jumped back, giving her a few extra seconds, her hands molding the ropes into two long metal rods.  
The blue painted masked ANBU threw their kunai. Kinzoku moved to deflect it but instead let it mold into the metal rod, leaving a dark stain. The ANBU stared for a split second, then quickly reached for three shuriken. But Kinzoku had already lunged forward, taking advantage of their hesitation, swinging her staff horizontally. She sharpened the point without a trace of thought, slicing through their thin black top, leaving a thin cut. She jabbed the end of her other staff into the other ANBU, whose kunai managed to nick her neck, pushing them back towards the thick of the forest. She swiftly condensed the two metal shafts into a thick strip of metal. She sent it flying behind her, trapping the ANBU against a tree.  
Now she only had one to deal with. She unsheathed the katana strapped to her back, reaching for the blue masked ANBU. They’d taken out their own sword, and now metal clashed against metal. Kinzoku’s sword was slightly bigger than the ANBU’s, but they’d had time to prepare, pushing Kinzoku down towards the ground. She scanned their body, looking for an open spot. She felt their kunai in their pouch. She turned them to face the ANBU, and before they could fully register what was happening, she jabbed the blades against their skin. They hissed, their strength on their sword weakening for a moment, and she took the opportunity to force their sword down, twisting their arms with the movement, and kicked them in the crotch, hoping they were a man.  
Kinzoku lucked out. The ANBU let out a groan of pain. He dropped his sword, hunching over, and metal ropes from the ground wrapped around his waist, tying him down.  
Kinzoku turned to leave. She sheathed her katana, picked up her pack and threw it over her shoulder.  
“Don’t move,” the shinobi said behind her. Kinzoku assumed they were trying to sound threatening, but it came out stumbling. “I have orders to take you in for questioning.”

~

When Kinzoku heard questioning, she didn’t think it meant the Hokage. If she remembered correctly, the blond man’s name was Namikaze Mineto. Or was it Minato? Probably Minato.  
Two ANBU stood at the sides of his desk. The shinobi that brought her in had already left.  
“According to reports from my shinobi, you were seen loitering at the border. Is that true?” he asked. Kinzoku nodded.  
“You were also seen using and sharpening a sword. Were you planning to attack our village?”  
Kinzoku nearly laughed.  
“No.”  
“Were you sent by Kirigakure to attack our village?”  
This time, Kinzoku laughed. Kiri barely even trusted her to go on missions above a B-rank or even sort of close to the Land of Iron. The Hokage looked at her strangely. She quickly turned the laughter into a cough. “No.”  
“Do you know of any plans that Kirigakure has to attack Konoha?”  
She shook her head, coughing again.  
“Okay. I’m going to assign a shinobi to escort you back to Kirigakure.” The Hokage rearranged the papers on his desk, quickly scribbling down a mission assignment. Kinzoku choked on her spit.  
“No, please no, don’t send me back there,” she begged, dropping to her knees. “I don’t want to go back there, I don’t ever want to see it again. Please don’t do it. Please.” She’d come all this way, just to be sent back? She was willing to fight tooth and claw to stay. Her head spun, conjuring up images of her teammates, the villagers, everybody, whispering behind her back about why she had left but gotten escorted back. The Mizukage would grill her about Konoha, and she’d probably be suspended from doing missions, and that would only fuel the hate. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away with her sleeve angrily, feeling stupidly vulnerable.  
The Hokage paused. He motioned to the ANBU beside his desk. “Escort her to the mental health wing in the hospital.” He handed one of them a piece of paper with writing on it, Kinzoku’s eyes too blurry to see what was written.  
The ANBU said nothing as they lead her to the hospital. They handed the slip of paper to the receptionist, and then quickly left.  
The receptionist, a black-haired man with kind eyes, told her to wait in room 3B with an equally kind voice. The door was already ajar, a pleasant perfume wafting out of the room.  
The room was simply decorated, the walls painted a pretty baby blue and one large window facing two trees whose leaves painted a swaying pattern with the sunlight on the floor. Two chairs sat facing each other.  
Within seconds, a doctor of some sort entered the room. Her hair was long and platinum blonde, clearly a Yamanaka.  
“Good afternoon,” the Yamanaka said, sitting down in one of the chairs. “My name is Yamanaka Ichiro. Take a seat.”  
Kinzoku obeyed, sitting down, and set her pack on the ground.  
“What’s your name?”  
“Kinzoku. Um, Fujii Kinzoku,” Kinzoku mumbled.  
Ichiro hummed, glancing at the Hokage’s note before tossing it in the trash. “If you feel comfortable, tell me about your life in Kirigakure.”

**Author's Note:**

> where minato's inner den mother kicks in.


End file.
